Fairy tale of New York
by potterbite
Summary: It was his damn fault, of course; the crazy leather dressed stalker she had to call the cops on. And he had the nerve to look like a hurt puppy she just left to die, and three hours later she still felt bad for sending her stalker to jail. [Captain Cobra Swan in New York. Emma and Henry both get their memories back.]


**A/N: CS Secret Shipmate gift made for legen-waitforit-married on tumblr. Happy Once-day (finally!)  
**

* * *

Emma sighed as she put the key in the lock, turning it slowly as if she'd been drained of all her energy during a rough and long day even though the clock had yet passed four in the afternoon.

It was his damn fault, of course; the crazy leather dressed stalker she had to call the cops on. And he had the nerve to look like a hurt puppy she just left to die, and three hours later she still felt bad for sending her _stalker_ to jail.

First he came to her home and kissed her, as if he'd wanted to do it forever. (Emma denied any and all accusations that she had a split second of weakness because crazy or not, damn he sure was hot so who could blame her really – not that she actually had a weak moment at all, whatsoever). Then he came to her when she was out having dinner with Walsh, and took Walsh's chair when he left for the bathroom as if it had been waiting for someone dressed freakishly like a walking advertisement for a cattle farm somewhere in a country nobody speaks about to sit on it. Later, when the man had left and Walsh got down on one knee asking her to marry him, Emma pretended she didn't picture someone with pitch black tousled hair and blue eyes asking her instead. (She said no to the proposal and ended things with Walsh then and there).

And then, the man had sought her out when she was taking a stroll in the park, hoping to spot the girl she'd been hired to catch. It was obvious he was becoming more and more stressed out with the fact that Emma wouldn't listen to him. Maybe if he'd opened with something other than her family being in mortal danger – a family she didn't even have no less – and insisting they were fairy tale characters when she asked where they were. He reached her just as she was about to approach her subject – a young woman that had already been in jail twice and fled bail three times – and grasped her wrist lightly.

"Emma, please – "

In a fast movement, she shook his hand off and noticed his left hand being very still. He caught her looking, and wriggled it in the air. "Nothing there, lass."

She gave him a sour look, and said, "Let me guess, you're Captain Hook?" The fact that she'd always felt very drawn to that character whenever she watched Peter Pan with Henry and the fact that she flinched every time Peter opened his mouth was something she didn't mention.

He smiled softly. "Aye."

"So that's your name then? Hook?" she snapped, feeling her annoyance rising with every ticking second because he was getting under her skin and she felt like he knew her more than he ought to. More than anyone ought to, except perhaps Henry.

"My real name is Killian."

"Well, _Killian_, unless you leave I'll have you arrested." He flinched when she spat his name at him but made no comment.

And that had been that. His relentless efforts didn't end so he left her no other choice than to call over the cops that was patrolling the park. And he didn't even protest. He just looked at her with so much hurt and pain she was forced to avert her eyes.

So when she came home less than five hours later – and having lost her mark due to the distraction that was now known as Killian – she was exhausted and hadn't even entered the apartment when Henry came bursting out in the hallway grinning like a maniac.

"Walsh called."

"What did he want?"

"You." He paused and scratched the back of his head. "You didn't tell me you broke up."

"I know, sorry. You were asleep when I got home and –" She eyed him skeptically. "Why are you grinning? I thought you liked Walsh."

"Nah. I liked that _you _liked him." He gave a small shrug before his eyes widened in excitement. "I've met the perfect man for you."

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah, today after school."

"Henry, you're not allowed to talk to strangers! You have better sense than that, you're thirteen."

"He wasn't a stranger. I recognized his voice from yesterday morning."

Her mouth actually fell open before she found her words again. "You eavesdropped?"

"Hey, I live here too." He raised both his hands as if to say he came in peace. "I just happen to have an excellent hearing."

"Oh yeah? Except when I tell you to clean your room." She poked him on the shoulder and he smiled sweetly at her.

"Duh."

"Anyway, he could be dangerous so I don't want you talking to him again when they let him out."

"Out from where?"

"Prison."

"Mom! You have to go bail him out!" He took her hand and started to drag her with him down the stairs with such a force that Emma had to actually make an effort to get out from his grip to be able to close the door behind them.

"Henry, I'm not – "

"He's Captain Hook. I believe him. Please let him out." And then he turned around and looked at her with almost an identical expression to the one Killian had given her when the police had taken him away and her guilt intensified. With a shrug and a sigh she took Henry's hand again and called a cab as soon as they were outside; apparently they were going to bail out the man her son thought was Captain Hook.

(Emma pretended the name still didn't mean anything to her nor did anything to her heartbeat).

She didn't let her teenage son rule her life and follow his every command, of course. She knew – and she knew that he knew – that if she had really thought Killian was dangerous she wouldn't have gone down to the station no matter how much Henry had begged. There was something about Killian she just couldn't shake off and a strange need to see him again had formed just as the officers had taken him away.

The truth was she'd seen him before. Loads of times during the nights since she and Henry had arrived in New York a man – this man – had come to her in her dreams. He always said the same thing; "_You have to remember. You have to wake up_." But she never did either. Instead she scrambled around in darkness with cries for help coming from every direction until she finally did wake up with her bed drenched in sweat. By now, she was so used to the dreams she knew what to expect when she went to sleep and therefore she was always prepared; a rubber band that snapped her waist whenever her right arm left her side, which it did most of the times she started to panic in the shadows of her nightmare, and a cover for children who wet their beds underneath her.

That may or may not have been the reason she didn't spend the night with Walsh one single time during eight months.

(The reason weren't that she felt like she was waiting for someone else. Someone very specific wearing a necklace with a skull and a sword over a bare chest. Not the reason at all).

* * *

Grunting, she signed the papers needed to release Killian and had just given them to one of the officers when Henry messaged her.

**ICE Henry**

Ur taking 4ever

j/k

fyi that means 'just kidding'

She groaned loudly and the officer frowned at her. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he wondered hesitantly.

"Yeah, just do it," she replied just as her phone vibrated again. Jeez, did she really raise a kid with such little patience? Sure, he had seemed bitter about the fact that he weren't allowed to go with her inside the station but once she had said she'd text him he'd agreed to not bother until she did. Or so she thought he had.

**ICE Henry**

MOM?

She smiled and answered quickly with a thousandth promise they would come and get him at the restaurant as soon as Killian was a free man again. He replied with symbols of fireworks, presents and a cute little guy crying out of happiness.

"It will be a couple more minutes," the officer informed her when he got back from the other room, which looked like a long hallway that probably held some cells and a lunch room. She nodded towards the friendly man and figured she might as well wait outside in the sunlight rather than stand close to cells that only gave her a horrible sense of déjà vu. Once outside she sat down on the stairs leading into the station.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," she muttered under her breath as her thoughts became more complicated by the minute.

She'd just released a man that had stalked her for at least two days, wore leather as if he wouldn't touch any other fabric, showed more chest than all men combined in a crowded bar on a Saturday night, and actually thought he was Captain Hook. Hell, her son agreed! The most frightening part about it all was that she didn't find any of it as disturbing or surreal as she probably should. And that made her rethink everything she knew about life.

A squeak behind her startled her to jump upright. She turned around just as Killian found her with his eyes; the way he lit up really shouldn't make her insides jump all over the place.

"Swan." He beamed. He actually freaking beamed at her and she began to question her decision to agree to Henry's idea. "You're here."

"As you can see," she retorted dryly and yet again ignored the tingle deep down in her belly. "Don't make me regret it."

"Listen, I'm getting desperate here." He took out a vial filled with something purple from a pocket in his jacket and held it out to her. "This potion can restore your memories."

She gave him a look that questioned his insanity and had just opened her mouth to tell him exactly where he could put that vial when her phone buzzed. _Again_. Knowing it had to be her son she picked it up and was met by probably the only word he could've picked that would change her mind.

**ICE Henry**

Trust.

Dear God, was she that transparent? And why was her son asking her to trust a complete stranger? What exactly had they talked about to make Henry put this much faith into a man he'd met a total number of one time? She bit down on her bottom lip and eyed the bottle in Killian's hand. _Trust_.

"Give it here, then." He pulled it out of his hand and held back a grin at his shocked expression. "If this doesn't work, then you'll leave?" She said it as a question because she was unsure if she was capable of ordering him to go away. _You suck, brain_, she thought and popped the cork of the flask open.

"Aye."

"If this kills me, I'll haunt you forever until you wish you're dead too," she stated matter-of-factly as she put the bottleneck to her lips and wished for it to not taste bad.

"If you die, I'll haunt myself forever as well." He gave her a small smile that didn't touch his eyes.

_Trust_.

She gulped the entire content of the vial at once and closed her eyes as she did. The gasp that left her mere seconds later was not something she could hold back; suddenly memories were flooding her, both good and horrible.

A little boy knocking on her door in her apartment in Boston, claiming to be her son.

A friendly woman named Mary Margaret asking her to move in with her.

The sheriff – Graham was his name – dying in her arms for no reason.

Her parents were Snow White and Prince Charming.

The first time she saw _him_. Being pulled out from underneath a pile of bodies.

"_You're something of an open book_."

"_Perhaps I would_."

"_As you wish_."

And a kiss. In Neverland. A mind-blowing what-the-hell-just-happened kind of kiss that made her lose focus and, no she most certainly wasn't falling in love with Captain Freaking Hook.

When she opened her eyes again he just stood there, looking at her with concern.

_Of course, _she thought. _He loves me._

"Emma?"

She met his gaze. "Hook."

At the same time as he let out a very big, shaky breath he placed his left arm over her shoulder to pull her towards him for a hug – one she didn't realize she'd craved as badly as she did. So she let herself sink further into his embrace, pressing her cheek lightly against his and pushed her chin into his shoulder.

It was a vibration in her pocket that broke the moment. Her son, ladies and gentlemen. She stepped back from Killian, not daring to watch him directly because of all unanswered questions she had in her head. Some she wanted answers to, others she would rather cut off a leg than hear the truth about; either way she knew there'd be time for that later. And that scared her a little too.

"That's Henry. Wait here while I'll go get him." She started to leave.

"As you wish."

The grin that spread across her face felt more real than anything else she'd done or experienced in her entire year in New York with Henry. After a few steps she turned around again.

"How are we going restore his memories?"

"True Love's kiss." Emma was sure they'd made a silent agreement within the last thirty seconds to not talk about the elephant in the room – so to speak – so she frowned and could practically feel the flush coming. Like she was a freaking teenager that blushed at a guy getting close to her. "Go," he added when she didn't do anything, and nodded towards to nothing in particular, motioning her to leave. She realized what he meant and almost ran all the way back to the restaurant to go get Henry and his memories back.

* * *

As she and Henry were walking back to the station he was literally jumping in excitement and complained that she refused to run. Like she'd ever run in heals. (Unless she were about to catch a criminal or return her son's memories, of course).

"He'll still be there," she vowed and stroked the back of his head. Something she'd done a million times before since he was a child – no, that's right. She shook her head to clear it of the wrong memories. The fake ones she never wished to forget but rather would anyway. The pain of now knowing they never actually happened was a bit overwhelming.

"Why didn't you take him with you to meet me instead?" Henry asked grumpily.  
"Because –" He's a pirate from another world that's in love with me and I really don't think he needs any more attention because something could happen to him and maybe I need him, "– he didn't get any proper lunch so I thought it would be cruel to take him to a restaurant" she finished with her brain a complete mess.

They rounded a corner and when Henry saw Killian standing there he sprinted – _sprinted _– to get to him as fast as he could. He even looked like he was going in for a hug but changed his mind in the last second.

"Is that so?" Killian wondered enthusiastically just as Emma came up to them, having missed the first part of their conversation. Henry nodded fervently.

"Yup!" He grinned. "Are you hungry?"

_Crap_, Emma thought. She sure raised a clever kid and nobody could tell her otherwise. Oh, wait, she didn't raise him. Double crap. Well, she'd just have to buy him something as a token of forgiveness for lying to him when he heard Killian say –

"Famished. They served me something called bologna in there." He made a disgusted face that made Henry laugh and Emma look at him like a hero. She saw Henry glancing up at her – trying to be oh so discrete – before speaking.  
"Mom is a great cook." His eyes darted from her to Killian and back again a couple of times. "Maybe you could come with us home and you can get some great dinner."

Sneaky as a snake, he was. But it wasn't as if she'd planned on letting Killian sleep out on the street now that she knew who he was so it was probably better this was, making Henry think it was his original idea. Killian seemed to think along the same lines.

"Would love to, lad." He squeezed the boy's shoulder gently and Emma's heart melted into a puddle right then and there in the middle of a crowded New York street with strangers passing by that didn't even realize what was happening right before their very own eyes.

(To be honest, Emma wasn't quite sure herself. Was she falling in love with having something like a father figure for Henry or just falling for Killian? Or maybe both at the same time?)

(Love? No, wait, love was a way too strong word. Or it was supposed to be at least. Why didn't it feel like that?).

"Then let's go!" Henry exclaimed triumphantly and started walking.

"Let's just take a cab," Emma said to her son's back but he shook his head.

"The subway would be way more fun with him." He pointed at Killian over his shoulder with a grin. "A subway ride with Captain Hook, does it get any better than that?"

* * *

It didn't get any better, Emma had to agree as she bit back laugh after laugh from watching Killian's reactions to the underworld of New York City. But when he tried to enter the station by just imitating other passenger's moves without actually having a ticket, she couldn't hold it in any longer. Somewhat offended, he frowned at her.

"I'm sorry for laughing at you," Emma quickly said when she realized he might actually feel stupid for not understanding – which he wasn't of course, but she knew him and how he thought.

_That's right, she did know him. Huh_.

"I'm not sorry, this is the most fun I've ever had," Henry said in between fits of laughter. Killian lit up at the words.

"Glad I can amuse you, lad." He ruffled Henry's hair just as Emma had done ever since he'd been a little boy – _Oh_. No. She wondered how long this was going to happen to her and prayed it wouldn't last forever because she was already getting a headache trying to figure out what was real or not.

Once they were finally on the subway heading home, Emma forced Killian to sit when she noticed people were staring.

"Henry, this was a bad idea."

"No it wasn't. Let them stare." He shrugged and turned to Killian. "You don't care, right?"

"No." He smirked up at Emma who stood in front of Henry. "But I think the staring is making your mother jealous." Emma snorted but didn't disagree.

She saw Killian's eyes widen – not that she was looking at him or anything – and followed his gaze to an old lady with practically no hair left on her head, a hunch like Quasimodo's and only a thin dress underneath her coat. She was carrying at least four cats in different pockets and in both her hands. Emma felt bad for the poor animals but they didn't have time for –

Suddenly the woman got up and walked over to Killian, probably having noticed him staring.

"One for you, yes?" she said in a hoarse voice, offering one of her cats to him. To Emma's horror he reached out his hand to accept it, so she slapped it away quickly.

"No, we're good," she told the lady, who grunted in reply and said a few dozen curses, all sending Emma to hell or worse (none of which had made an actual curse if said by a magical creature, Emma knew that much).

"We do not accept things, and most of all not creatures, from strangers, Killian!" Emma hissed when the poor woman was out of hearing range. Both Henry and Killian chuckled in response and Emma didn't even realize she'd used his real name for the first time as herself.

* * *

Killian was just taking a bite of one of Emma's famous – Henry being the only fan - burgers when she folded her arms across her chest and took a sip of her wine.

"You stalked me."

"I did no such thing!" he replied as he swallowed. She raised an eyebrow.

"You were a creepy stalker."

He dried his hands on the napkin, and said, "I prefer dashing rapscallion." Henry started laughing again and it hurt when she couldn't remember him laughing this much before as he had in the few hours since he'd gotten his memories back and met Killian properly. They'd been very happy in the life Regina had given them, yes, but it became more and more apparent that that happiness had been fake, just like everything else.

"Okay, time for bed mister," Emma stated just as Henry opened his mouth.

"But Mom! Just one more story." He gave his best puppy eyes, the ones she couldn't refuse.

She sighed and lifted her index finger. "One."

Henry did a small victory dance and dragged Killian with him to the couch and as he launched into his fourth adventure for the evening Emma started doing the dishes, listening to his soothing voice, feeling calmness spreading all over her body just as it had during the other three stories.

"Let me tell you about when I almost lost my head. Is that something you'd like to hear about?"

"Duh!" Henry answered eagerly and Killian laughed. Emma smiled to herself because it made her really glad to hear both Henry and Killian so happy, and them being happy _together_ was just like all missed Christmases and birthdays over the years thrown together in a massive celebration.

(Okay, so maybe she did have stronger feelings for Killian than she dared to confess).

"Once upon a time, I was a young scoundrel living on the streets in a small town in the outskirts of Camelot when my brother found me and offered me the world. Anxious to prove myself to him, I accepted willingly without even knowing the adventures that lay before us. He took me to Agrabah, a rather small kingdom owned by The Sultan and – "

"Not to be a drag, but I've seen the Disney version of Aladdin," Henry interrupted.

"I'm not sure who Disney or Aladdin is, lad. But The Sultan was a fierce man, not afraid to kill innocents to get the power he needed. You see, his plan was to gather enough soldiers to take control over the entire Enchanted Forest."

Henry gasped and from what Emma could hear, Killian seemed rather pleased with himself that he could get that kind of reaction from the young boy.

"Aye," he continued and there was a sound of leather creaking. Emma guessed he was taking of his ridiculously long jacket that had to be burning him up in their warm New York apartment. "So when Liam and I arrived – Liam's my brother, did you know?"

"No. But I like the name."

"I do too." He went quiet for a few seconds before continuing. Emma wondered if he thought about his brother and if she would ever know more about him than the little David had said.

_David_. That's right, he was her father. Jesus, those flashbacks kept on coming.

"Where was I? Oh, right. When Liam and I arrived in Agrabah, The Sultan greeted us friendly. He had an idea about ruling the navy, but I'm not quite sure if he actually thought that was realistic. Anyway, I was barely seventeen and had not quite learned the fine art in thinking before you speak."

Henry laughed.

"So when The Sultan expressed his wish, I rolled my eyes and told him how bloody ridiculous it was. He answered by cutting my head off of my body."

Henry gasped again and Emma could tell from the sound of their voices they were both enjoying this equally.  
"Lucky for me, I was young and vigil and managed to duck in the nick of time. One of The Sultan's own soldiers had the unlucky fortune of losing his head instead."

"How did you manage to escape?"

"A young lad with a magic carpet came to our rescue just as The Sultan's entire guard came rushing after us. Liam cursed me the entire time and I couldn't stop laughing. Last I heard, The Sultan lost his power when the young lad that helped us married The Sultan's daughter and took over the kingdom. Apparently, the newlywed couple made excellent rulers. I believe they kept The Sultan locked up in a cage and fed him cookies." He touched his lips with two fingers, and looked like he thought about his own words for a moment. "Although, that could be fabricated lies since I heard them from old enemies of The Sultan. At least it ended happily."

"Wow," was all Henry said, obviously speechless (_again_, just like after the other three stories he'd heard). Emma took her chance and went out into the living room.

"Okay, Henry, now you need to sleep. We have a long drive all the way back to Storybrooke tomorrow."

"Just one more thing," he promised as he stood up.

"Henry – "

He turned over to Killian again. "Killian, I was just wondering – " He hesitated and looked down at his bare feet.

"Ask me whatever you like," Killian encouraged.

"You told me of Liam in your last story, but he wasn't in the other three. What happened to him?"

Killian closed his eyes. "He died."

"I'm sorry."

"Thank you, lad. I am too."

Cautiously, Henry came up closer to Killian and put both his arms around the older man in an awkward hug since Henry was almost as tall as Killian after having grown at least six inches in the past year he had trouble where to place his hands. He settled with under Killian's arms. Taken aback, Killian hugged the boy back and even let out a small huff of breath sounding an awful lot like relief. When Henry left to go to his room (without looking back at either of them) Emma watched Killian's face; his eyes glistened in the dimly lit room, and her heart swelled from all emotions she was feeling at the same time.

Pride at her son, love for her son and the stupid pirate she never meant to love in the first place, sorrow for old memories and anger for them not being real.

Silently, she mimicked her son's actions and got up as close as humanly possible to Killian and wrapped her arms around his neck. He was warm, and so was she, and it should have felt weird to stand in the living room of her fake New York apartment with residues of her fake life surrounding them as his hook rested softly on the small of her back.

But it didn't.

She squeezed him harder, and he did the same.

"Thank you for coming for me," she whispered against his shoulder, breathing in the sweet smell of worn leather and her own cooking mixed together with the scent that was just _him_.

"Always."

* * *

**1 year later. **

"Killian, stop it," Emma tried. "Henry is in the next room!"

"Stop what?" he murmured as he continued his trail of kisses lower down her body. "If I am doing something wrong, then by all means stop me."

"I hate you." He grinned widely at her blatant lie and trailed back up again to kiss her nose.

"No, you don't." He touched her lips with his. "You love me."

"Not even a little bit," she stated into his mouth as he bit down softly on her lower lip; the groan that escaped her was not something she could be held accounted for, really.

"Is that so?" He raised an eyebrow and kissed her out of her breath in a matter of seconds, even before she'd had time to react, to kiss him back. "Not even if I do this?" His fingers slowly moved her underwear to the side before he delicately touched her. She hummed involuntarily, even though the touch wasn't enough; too careful, too slow.

"Maybe a little," she admitted as he continued to trace soft patterns against her clit in an absentminded way that made her go crazy; she started moving her hips under his fingers, urging him on because she couldn't stand the playful teasing.

"Oh, then what about – " He was interrupted by Emma's phone vibrating at the night stand; frowning, she immediately sat up to read the text message she'd gotten. When she saw who it was from she turned bright red before she instantly adjusted the giant t-shirt she slept in and straightened out her underwear.

**ICE Henry**

Guys. Thin walls. Scarred kid 4 life over here.

Killian snickered when he read it over her shoulder, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder, and yelled, "There's plenty of room in the bed, lad!"

"Gross!" Henry shouted back, making Killian grin again.

"Fine, your choice. I thought you craved to hear the stories of my youth," he yelled dramatically. Emma snorted.

It only took three seconds for Henry to knock on the door. "Are both of you decent?"

"Aye. Except I'm naked and your mother is holding my hand!" He smirked as the door opened slightly.

"Liar," Henry accused and joined them on the bed.

"Henry, I really don't mean to scar you here but how do you think your mother got like that?" He pointed at Emma's bulging belly. "I can assure you the stork was not involved."

"Yes it was, and that's the story I'm sticking with. Don't make me regret spending every other week here, I could live over with mom and Robin all the time, you know." He leaned back against the headboard with his hands behind his head, obviously pleased with his empty threat even though neither Emma nor Killian took notice of it. Henry loved Killian just as much as he did Emma, Regina and Robin and refused to spend more than three days in a row not seeing him (or any of them really). "So, what's cooking tonight?"

"Cooking?"

Henry shook his head slightly and rolled his eyes. "What story do you have to tell me tonight?"

Enthusiastically, Killian began. "Have I told you about the time Madame Chez almost had me marry her youngest son?"

As Killian launched into another tale with Henry listening intently, Emma drifted off to sleep with her hand in Killian's, and dreamt of the happiest year of her life that had all started with a fairy tale in New York.


End file.
